


Ghost myself

by Vale11



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Developing Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Johnny Lawrence, Hurt/Comfort, and a nap, beer is the answer, but i forgot the question, johhny needs a hug, robby where the fuck are you, sam makes an appearance too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vale11/pseuds/Vale11
Summary: Robby ran, didn’t trust you enough, and he was right, it says.Miguel could die. Could never walk again, it says.Cobra Kai is gone, Tommy is dead, it says.And it’s on you.---Oh, and have mercy on me. I'm Italian, English is just my second language.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 61





	1. Ghost myself

If I could build a fire and burn down my life  
That would be the one thing I got right  
'Cause I'm haunted by a shadow that I can't escape  
See it in the mirror right behind my face  
I could build a fire and burn down my life

Diamante - Ghost myself

Coffee smells good, Johnny thinks drowning his face in the mug. The ceramic rim shuts out the world and, at the moment, that’s right what he needs.  
Coffee. Yes, coffee is good.  
He chases the last drops, chases away the sour taste left in his mouth by cheap beer and bad whiskey and thinks about making a fresh pot.  
His now totally empty pantry has other ideas.

Fuck, he’d love some more coffee. Just a bit more. Just a bit more time to keep on hiding inside the mug, shutting everything else out. Not to sleep. Not to succumb to the nightmares he’s sure will come and get him.  
What’s so good to look at outside his mug, anyway?   
Screw it. He’ll spend his whole life tucked inside his coffee like some fucked up turtle.

Ha.

He’s been pushing his students to leave their shells behind and now look at him, eyes fixed on the bottom of an empty breakfast mug. No wonder he doesn’t feel like looking in the mirror, lately.   
He can’t face himself, pure and simple. Which makes shaving a bit complicated.  
Har har.

The eyes that look back at him from the window don’t look like the eyes he’s been used to see in the last months, when he had Cobra Kai and his students, when he had his son finally back, and a semblance of stability and happiness.   
The eyes that look back at him from the window are dull, the outline of his bearded face sculpted by the lamp at his back against the quickly approaching night.  
Fuck, he’s got eyebags so big he could use them to go grocery shopping.

His stomach clenches, again and again, as he starts tapping his foot on the floor in a nervous rhythm. He’s been anxious for days. Months. Fuck, maybe years. But it’s all exploding now.  
And he can’t stay there.   
Can’t stay home.  
The walls make him feel caged.  
Can’t stay still, even.  
He’s so restless he feels like screaming, pent up rage pushing against his ribcage, but all he’s able to do is take a deep, desperate breath and he gathers his keys and his new phone (since his old one flew down to the beach) and shuts the door behind him.  
He’s left a note for Robby, should he come back.  
(Please, please come back Robby. Come back.)  
He starts running as soon as his feet hit the concrete.

His legs are burning, he’s drenched in sweat, his heart is hammering in his chest and his lungs are begging him to stop.  
But he can’t, he just can’t.   
Because if he stops he’ll be back in the present, his thoughts will catch up with him and he doesn’t want them around.   
He doesn’t.  
So he pushes on, jeans and hair wet from sweat and the light rain that just started to fall, vision getting blurrier and blurrier with each step he takes.  
But he won’t stop.  
His body might want him to, but he just can’t.

It’s getting really dark. The rain falls harder. His feet are still bumping on the asphalt. His chest is exploding, his breathing short and laboured.   
He doesn’t even know where he’s going, where he is.  
He doesn’t care.  
He doesn’t stop. 

It’s dark now, and cold, and he doesn’t know where he is. He’s no longer running, wet steps dragging on the sidewalk illuminated by the lights of some sporadic car, a street lamp bathing him in yellow light for a few seconds. There’s no moon, the sky a deep, endless black.  
He keeps his hands under his armpits and his head down and keeps on walking, because if he stops his mind will start thinking again and he can’t take it anymore.  
The guilt. The fear. They’re killing him.  
There’s still a hard ball of anxiety in his chest, and if he stops it will spread to his whole body.  
So he just won’t.

In the end he has to lean against a street lamp because he can’t move anymore: his legs feel made of wet wood, ready to break and crumble at any moment, and he’s so tired.  
Of everything.  
There’s a strange noise, a weak keening sound, and it takes him a while to understand that it’s coming from his throat.  
He falls on his knees in the ran and has just the time to think of how pathetic he must look like before passing out.

It can’t have been long, because when he comes to he’s still right where he fell, the street lamp glaring down at him like some pissed parent  
(fuck off, Sid. Fuck off)  
and the rain is falling in his eyes, making him blink again and again until he connects enough to sit up curling around himself, shielding his head with his arms from something only he can seem to see, or feel.

Sid always called him crazy. Maybe he was right. Who knows.

He knows he has to get out of the rain before he catches something, and there’s a nagging voice reminding him that he has no insurance, but he can’t seem to move: he really overdid it, this time. Pushed himself too far.  
Literally, since he doesn’t know where the fuck he is. The road is dark and empty.  
It’s so, so cold.  
And he’s so tired.  
And he wants to go home.  
If only he had one, right?  
Thinking about it, maybe he never really did. He thought he had found one with Cobra Kai and Kreese, back in the day, but now, when he thinks about the man, all he can feel is the arm around his neck, squeezing the air out of his lungs, choking him.  
And all he can hear is a string of failures: Robby ran, didn’t trust you enough, and he was right, it says.   
Miguel could die. Could never walk again, it says.  
Cobra Kai is gone, Tommy is dead, it says.  
And it’s on you.

\---

I know it seems weird, but this is what happens to me. I mean, when anxiety strikes I either run or hit the gym. If it hits hard while I'm at work, well...I'm sure it looks interesting.


	2. Sirens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Johnny, you there?”  
> He mutters, eyes on the rain battering the windows. There’s silence again, and then Johnny coughs wetly and all he can hear is the other man’s laboured breaths.

Hear the sirens covering distance in the night  
The sound, echoing closer, will they come for me, next time?  
Pearl Jam - Sirens

Daniel is sleeping, comforter up to his chin, when his phone rings. His first thought is for Sam, but a glance from the window tells him that she’s home, her car still parked right outside their home. He still feels his breath hitch when he thinks about the fight that went down at school, just a few days prior, and the consequences it had.  
And those it could have had, too.

He eyes the phone and is tempted to throw it out of the room when Johnny’s name starts blinking from the screen, but he doesn’t.  
And he doesn’t know what forces him to answer. He just does.  
“The fuck you want?”  
He whispers fiercely, teeth gritted and jaw locked, but cautious: Amanda is sleeping beside him, and he doesn’t want to wake her up. There’s silence on the other side of the line, the sound of rain and hitching breaths.  
Fuck it, it’s 3 A.M. He should be sleeping. He closes his eyes, sweeping a hand on his face, and listens to the silence for a couple of beats.

“Fuck it, Johnny. I don’t have time for this shit”

He goes to hang up but something stops him: there is a tiny, nearly inaudible gasp from Johnny, and it makes his blood freeze. So he does the only thing he can do: he gets up and pads into the corridor, all traces of sleep vanished from his mind, terrorized by that small, so human and vulnerable sound.  
“Johnny, you there?”  
He mutters, eyes on the rain battering the windows. There’s silence again, and then Johnny coughs wetly and all he can hear is the other man’s laboured breaths.  
“Johnny, where are you?”  
Nothing, still that awful silence. He feels dread coil in his stomach, there’s a buzzing in his ears and he vaguely wonders if he’s panicking on Johnny fucking Lawrence’s behalf. He growls.  
“Johnny, where the hell are you?”  
There’s a sharp intake of breath then, more coughing and, just when Daniel is starting to think that this is a lost cause, that Johnny won’t answer, his voice comes from the rain and the night he’s lost in.  
“I don’t...I’m sorry” There’s coughing again, and Johnny’s voice is a bit more firm when he speaks “I shouldn’t have called. I don’t know what...”  
“No Johnny, come on. No. Where are you?”  
“I don’t...” Daniel can imagine him as he looks around, blue eyes dazed and lost and shit, the picture is so vivid it hurts “I don’t know?”  
“How can you not...” Daniel sighs and closes his eyes, pinching his nose and wishing he hadn’t answered. He doesn’t want this burden, too.

But he answered, and now he can’t just ignore it: Johnny sounds so distressed. So broken. He has to go and get him. Find him. He can keep on hating him later.

“Johnny, I want you to concentrate: where are you?”  
“I don’t know. I was running and...I’m sorry, I should go”  
“Johnny!” Daniel has to control himself or he’ll start screaming, and he doesn’t want to scare his family. There’s heavy breathing on the other side of the phone, he can hear the rain.  
He can hear Johnny’s cough. He’s still there.  
“Johnny” He tries again “Concentrate, ok? Can you send me your location through WhatsApp?”  
The silence sounds confused, now. Daniel can easily imagine Johnny’s eyes getting sharper.  
“My what with what?”  
He sounds pissed. Daniel can breath better hearing his voice like that. Cutting, and more like himself. He shakes his head.  
“Alright. What’s around you? Can you see something, anything in particular?”

Johnny shakes his head, then remembers that LaRusso can’t hear him and uses his voice.  
It sound wrong. And wet. And rough. And abused.  
“There’s...a park. Behind me. No shops. There’s...” He clears his throat “There’s no one around”.

Daniel sighs. No one around means no one to ask about his whereabouts, he knows what he means.  
“Right. Do you remember the direction you took?”  
A beat of silence, a cough and a sigh. Johnny sounds defeated. It’s downright scary.  
“North”  
“You sure?”  
Johnny just hums, the sound of the rain is getting stronger but it doesn’t feels like he’s looking for shelter, it looks like he’s just sitting there.  
That idiot.  
“Took any turns?”  
“No, don’t think so”  
Daniel nods, chews the inside of his cheek and sighs again.  
“Alright. Find somewhere safe, Johnny, I’m coming”.

LaRusso cuts the line before he can say anything, so Johnny just stares at his wet phone and slips it in his drenched back pocket.  
He’s drenched, too.  
He’s cold.  
LaRusso said to look for somewhere safe, but fuck it. He can’t move his legs. Maybe doesn’t even want to.  
And Robby is vanished. Miguel could never walk again. Cobra Kai is gone. Tommy is dead.  
And there’s still that voice in his head, that keeps on telling him that it’s his fault, all of it, as he rests his forehead on his knees and lets the rain wash over him.

Daniel leaves a note for Amanda and the kids, puts on a pair of jeans and a sweater ad runs to the car, his gym shoes echoing in the silence that reigns in the house.  
But outside...oh, outside everything is different: the rain falls so hard it’s deafening as it drums on the car’s roof, and he can’t help but thinking that Johnny is out there, has been out there for who knows how long and, unless he finds him, he’ll catch his death.  
By pneumonia or drowning in rain, with the force it falls.


	3. Coming undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll take you home, ok” He says in his hair, then pushes him back and attempts a smile “Come on, where is the Johnny I hate?”  
> Johnny looks at him. He knows he means well but, really?  
> He levels him with a downright evil gaze and shudders again.  
> “Right here, asshole”

Choke, choke again  
I thought my demons were my friends  
Pity me in the end  
They're out to get me  
Since I was young  
I tasted sorrow on my tongue  
And this sweet sugar gun does not protect me

Korn - Coming undone

He reaches Reseda and looks around. Johnny was on foot when he left home, he said he went north so that’s where he goes, car rolling slowly to constantly check his surroundings and also because he can’t see a thing with that blasted storm.  
Because the rain has evolved in a full blown downpour, and there is a fucking waterfall on his windscreen, and he has to be careful or he might miss Johnny.  
It’s just so hard to see.

There’s the park.

And fuck, there’s Johnny. Or at least he thinks it could be him: there’s the shape of a man curled up against a street light, drenched in rain, ankles crossed in front of him.  
He looks so small.

Well, he ought to stop anyway, right? If it’s not Johnny he can help the man and then go on looking.   
Oh, he so hopes it’s not him. He doesn’t want that slumped shape to be him.  
But it is.  
And he looks...bad.  
His arms are linked around his knees, his head down, water dripping from his hair.   
Fuck, from his whole person.  
He uses the street lamp as a support, sitting in the neverending rain. It’s such a different version of him that Daniel has to double check to be sure.  
But really, it’s him. And it hurts, seeing Johnny like that.   
Not him, not the guy he knows.

Johnny’s left shoulder twitches and Daniel unfreezes from his position behind the wheel, all jerky movements and fear because fuck, this is bad and he might have to get him to the ER.  
“Johnny!”  
He screams over the sound of water hitting the ground in full force, and Johnny’s head comes up.  
He looks like someone who fought a war, and lost it. He looks so broken that Daniel just stops in his tracks, water running down his back in cold rivulets, because he’s scared that if he says the wrong thing, makes the wrong move, Johnny will shatter.  
Old rivalries be damned, he won’t let him suffer like that.

When Johnny looks up he can’t believe his own eyes: LaRusso is there, is really there and he can’t, try as he might, understand why. What made him leave his family, his home, his warm bed to come looking for him.  
But there he is, standing next to his car, looking at him with such worry in his eyes that he feels like shit for putting it there.  
Then it’s like Daniel wakes up from some kind of daze and starts running towards him, crossing the road that now looks more like a small river, and Johnny has a fleeting vision of a kid hobbling in his direction in a parking lot. The feeling of an arm around his neck. And he nearly chokes all over again.  
“Johnny, fuck! I told you to find shelter!”  
He hears, and there are hands on his shoulders, shaking him. He’s back under the rain, no parking lot, no arm around his neck, and all he can see are LaRusso’s brown eyes and dark, dripping hair. His lips are moving but he can’t understand what he’s saying, there are fingers on his chin and his head gets tilted up, the rain is falling into his eyes again.  
And then Daniel’s voice breaks through the buzz in his ears and the world come crashing down on him, and he’s so not ready for that.  
There’s too much noise, too many bad things happened, too much shitty stuff went down.  
His thoughts have caught up with him, and his head can’t take it.

His whole body can’t take it.

So he lets himself fall on all fours and pukes everything he’s had in the whole day. Namely: a beer, some coffee and a few shots of bad whisky. He couldn’t let anything past his lips for fear to see it come back up immediately, his stomach tied in knots.

Well, look at him now. How did it work, hm?

Johnny’s throat burns with acid, his stomach spasms and his head is killing him. But what hurts the most are the tears pushing against his eyes.  
He’s been keeping them a bay since that day in the hospital, looking at Miguel’s broken form, but now they’re back in full force and it hurts to cry.  
He had nearly forgotten how much it hurts.  
He hears LaRusso sigh and already knows what he’s going to ask. And that hurts, too, but he guesses he deserves it.  
“Are you drunk, Johnny?”

And no, he’s not.

He shakes his head, eyes closed against the small pool of acidic bile under his nose, then looks up and grimaces because LaRusso’s eyes are so cold, now.  
“No” He rasps “No. I’m just...”  
He shakes his head, and doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for Daniel to believe him. Maybe because he’s tired. Sad. Wounded. So, so completely alone and fucked up.  
It must show because LaRusso takes him in and nods, then hooks his arms under his armpits and pulls him up in a swift move. Johnny ends up with his head resting against the other man’s shoulder, and can’t stop the groan that escapes his lips because fuck, his legs hurt now.

“You ok?” Comes Daniel’s voice, worried again “You’re not hurt, are you?”  
“No” He chokes out, slight tremors running through his body “I just...ran. I ran”.  
“All this way?”  
Daniel pushes him back to look at him and Johnny grimaces, the weight falling on his abused legs again: the muscles are starting to cramp with the cold and the extra exercise he put them through.  
He just shrugs, chewing on his bottom lip.  
“Wow, man. That’s a pretty long way from your place. You alright?”  
Johnny shrugs again. He’s got no idea how he feels, and has got no idea where the fuck he ended up. Daniel’s hand clasps his shoulder, grounding, and he forces himself to look into his ex nemesis eyes.  
“I’m sorry” He forces out of his throat “For. You know. Calling. There’s just...” He chokes on the truth of his own words “No one. There’s no one else”.  
Daniel regards him, water dripping from his hair, and nods.  
“It’s ok, man. We’ll make it right”  
And Johnny feels a bitter laugh bubble out of his mouth because there’s no way he heard right. Daniel LaRusso is trying to comfort him. That’s a first.

Also, there’s nothing left to fix.

“Whatever it is”  
Daniel adds in an interrogative tone, and Johnny has to really laugh at that.  
Really, whatever it is? Can’t he guess?  
His son nearly killed his student, and now he’s got no idea where he is, if he’s fine or if he’s hurt. No. Idea. His ex sensei stole his dojo and now is teaching his students, and he’s fucking dangerous around kids. And his best friend is dead. That’s whatever it is, for fuck’s sake.  
He laughs, letting an astonished Daniel keep him up by the shoulders, and he’s right to look at him as if he were a loon because he sounds and feels totally deranged. When he goes to dry his face he finds that he can’t distinguish the rain from the tears, so who fucking cares, right?

There’s a new quality to Daniel’s voice when he tells him to get in the car, out of the rain: “Can you walk?” He asks softly, as if he’s afraid to spook him. Like Johnny is some kind of wild animal caught in the storm.  
Johnny shrugs again and Daniel puts his arm around his shoulders and one hand on his side, taking most of his weight, steering him to the car.  
“I’ll make it all wet”  
He objects while LaRusso helps him to sit down, but Daniel just smile sand shakes his head.  
“That’ll make two of us” He answers bucking him up, making him feel a bit like a toddler “Don’t worry”.  
So ok, he won’t worry. Then Daniel is sitting next to him, offering him a water bottle to wash away the taste of vomit and acid, trying a failing to dry his face and muttering something about keeping towels in the car from then on, and Johnny just sits there, shaking with the cold and the stupid stunt he pulled.  
“I should get you to my place, you should rest”  
LaRusso offers, looking straight at him, but Johnny shakes his head, water flying from his hair. It’s getting long. He should cut it.  
He doesn’t really care.  
“No just...take me home. Please?”  
“Johnny...”  
LaRusso sounds sceptic, and he knows that he doesn’t want him to be alone after what he did. It must look like a weird attempt at suicide. But he has to be there. He’s been away for too long. What if…  
“I just...for Robby. What if he comes back and I’m not there?”  
There are tears in his voice, and at the moment he’s not strong enough to hide them. Daniel swallows and looks at the rain.  
“He’s still gone?” He asks “Did you call the police?”  
Johnny nods and hides his eyes behind his hand, but has to slide it downward and press it against his lips because there is a sob threatening to escape there, and he doesn’t want it to.

He wants his pain to be his own, he wants to keep it for himself, to cherish it and polish it ‘till it shines, because it’s all he has left.  
He’s defined by pain and loss, now. Take it away and he won’t know who he is anymore.

“Johnny”  
Johnny shakes his head because he can’t take LaRusso’s kindness, now. He will shatter. It will hurt too much. His stomach hurts from the strength he’s using not to break down. It feels like his throat is made of glass, like Kreese’s arm is back there, around his neck.  
Too bad, because it looks like Daniel won’t let him drown, all alone in the viscous mess he’s in: there are hands on his shoulders, and then Daniel unbuckles him and drags him forward, forcing him to rest against his chest and he doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to, but his resistance is too weak and he finds himself slotted in LaRusso’s arms, head tucked under his chin.  
“Shit, Johnny, you’re shaking”  
One of LaRusso’s hands leaves his back and tinkers with the car’s commands, hot hair hits him suddenly and he starts shaking even more.  
LaRusso’s hand comes back and starts running up and down his wet shirt, trying to warm him up: the quantity of water on their clothes makes it totally useless. Johnny shudders and sets his jaw against the shaking and the cold, but says nothing. He can hear Daniel sigh and feel his arms squeeze him a bit more.  
“I’ll take you home, ok” He says in his hair, then pushes him back and attempts a smile “Come on, where is the Johnny I hate?”  
Johnny looks at him. He knows he means well but, really?  
He levels him with a downright evil gaze and shudders again.  
“Right here, asshole”

And it hits Daniel right in the chest that this is Johnny, too. Has always been. There’s always been more about him than his “Cobra Kai never dies” persona. This broken, hurt man is just as much Johnny as the half crazy karateka he knows.  
Alright, then.

“I’ll get you home, but won’t leave you there by yourself” He states.  
Johnny just hums.  
Whatever.  
He cannot bring himself to care.


	4. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s looking around his own place as if something should happen at any moment, and Daniel knows that he’s waiting for Robby. Hoping he’ll be back. Hoping that there’ll be a knock on the door and his kid will be right there.

I've got a liver full of toxins and belly full of fire  
And a tendency to lose myself for a while  
Cause all the countless nights I spent cowering in bed  
Cause I can't fight the voice that rings inside my head

Deaf Havana - Happiness

Johnny’s place is modest, but not that bad: he expected to find posters with naked women on every surface, what he finds is...emptiness, actually. And the picture of a very young Robby on the fridge that hurts him deeply. 

He still doesn’t know how to feel about Johnny’s son, but he knows he loves him. They both do. But as a parent, now that e the boy still can’t be found, he can just imagine how worried and scared Johnny must be feeling.

“Take the first shower, LaRusso” He hears Johnny mutter from the door “Until the hot water lasts”.  
Daniel turns around, astounded, and takes him in: Johnny is shivering like crazy in his grey, long sleeved shirt and faded jeans. He’s the one that should get warm pronto.  
So he says just that.  
And Johnny shakes his head, arms curled around his ribcage.  
“It’s the least I can do after forcing you out of bed to...you know”  
Daniel exhales and looks at Robby’s picture again. The smile. The blond hair. Then looks at Johnny and can see him there, somewhere.  
“No man, come on. You’ll catch your death”  
But Johnny won’t be convinced, the hard-headed bastard. He just bites the inside of his cheek and looks to the side.  
“Just...please” He rasps “I’ll be fine. Please?”

He’s looking around his own place as if something should happen at any moment, and Daniel knows that he’s waiting for Robby. Hoping he’ll be back. Hoping that there’ll be a knock on the door and his kid will be right there.  
He feels the urgent, shocking need to hug all that sadness out of him, gather Johnny in his arms and keep all the pieces together, but he knows that Johnny would never let him.  
In the car he was upset and nearly dead on his feet, now that he’s a bit more like himself there’s just no way.  
But Daniel just..doesn’t feel like leaving, even if it’s just the bathroom he’s going to: Johnny looks ready to collapse, for fuck’s sake.  
“Ok” He concedes “But only if you take that shirt off, get a blanket or something and go sit on the couch, at least”  
Johnny smirks, arms still around his torso, and it’s such a familiar look on his face that Daniel could cry from sheer relief.  
“Buy me dinner first, LaRusso”  
“Asshole” Daniel smiles, and keeps one eye on Johnny while he toes off his sneakers, a small puddle already forming at his feet, then lifts his shirt. There’s a wet splat as he lets it fall unceremoniously to the floor and then he just stands there, bare chested.  
“Well?” He rasps “Go get that damn shower”  
“You’re impossible, Lawrence”.

As Daniel shakes his head and vanishes in the bathroom Johnny falls back against the door, feeling like he can let go now that he’s alone, and slides down to the floor on shaky legs.  
But, obviously, LaRusso comes back with a towel and freezes.

Oh, come on.

Daniel’s eyes grow huge in that comical way of his and then he’s practically sprinting towards Johnny, towel spread out.  
“Shit, Johnny. Come on, get up” He hurries, wrapping the towel around his shoulders. It barely covers them, small as it is.  
LaRusso’s hands catch his elbows and he finds himself being hoisted up for the second time, while being literally dragged to the couch.  
“Here” LaRusso says, crouching in front of him and putting his hands on Johnny’s knees “I’ll drag you to the shower myself if you don’t get your ass in there right now, Johnny”  
Johnny’s head comes up, hands clutching at the green towel.  
“But...”  
“Now”  
LaRusso sounds final, and he’d like to insist just to piss him off, but the thing is that he’s fucking freezing.  
So...hm. Well. So be it.   
“Johnny”   
LaRusso calls him, still crouched on the floor, right when he’s getting to his feet with the umpteenth groan of the night. Johnny turns and nearly trips on his wet socks.  
“What”  
He growls, and LaRusso has the decency to look embarrassed, at least: he glances at him and then at the bathroom door.  
“Could you leave the door unlocked?” He asks, sheepish “It would help my peace of mind, you know”  
Johnny zeroes on him, head tilted to the side, and would like to answer that he doesn’t really care about his peace of mind.

But the man saved his fucking life. And it would be a lie, anyway.  
He cares.  
He just sucks at showing it.  
Like, a lot.

“I’m not going to fall in the shower”   
He sneers.  
“You nearly fell from the couch”  
“Because you distracted me”  
“Oh, come on” Daniel Groans “Your balance is just as good as mine. Are you really saying that just calling your name made you loose your footing?”  
Johnny has nothing to say to that: he just gapes at Daniel, one hand still firmly planted on the couch for support, and growls.  
“Fine”  
He concedes, slamming the bathroom door behind him. Daniel smiles and listens as the water gets turned on, but then Johnny reappears again, still shirtless and with just his jeans on.

He’s always been imposing but now, framed by the yellow light of the bathroom, he looks more vulnerable than ever.

“LaRusso” He mutters, looking straight at him, hands picking at some stray thread of his frayed jeans “Should Robby be back while I’m in the shower could you...I mean” He sighs and looks down, one hand in his hair “Could you ask him not to leave? At least not until I can see him?”

What do you answer to such a request? Daniel can only nod and look as Johnny’s dejected form steps back into the bathroom. There are a few noises then, and Daniel strains his ears for any thumps or something like that, but it looks like Johnny’s doing fine.  
He really didn’t fall in the shower, then.


	5. A reason to fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s still smiling when he gets in the bathroom.  
> And he stops smiling when he hears Johnny’s answer.
> 
> “I Can’t”

The image in your eyes  
Reflecting the pain that has taken you  
I hear it in your voice, so ridden with shame  
From what's hailing you  
I won't give up so don't give in  
You've fallen down but you can rise again  
So don't give up

Disturbed - Reason to fight

He doesn’t expect Daniel to be still there after he’s showered, he thought he’d be gone back to his house, his family. But the man is there, still dripping wet, with his head inside the fridge.

He’d like to ask him what the fuck he’s doing but really, he saved his life, right? He said it already. So he just tightens the towel around his hips and clears his throat, catching LaRusso’s attention.  
“Beers are down there” he says with a nod to the last shelf of the fridge “You should go get that shower, LaRusso. I left you plenty of hot water”  
“What?”  
Daniel turns around, catches him nearly naked and stares.

Right. Maybe he should have put on some pants, at least.

LaRusso shakes his head, eyes finally finding his face, and points to the fridge.  
“No man, I was just looking for some soup, some food or...whatever. Some coffee? Hell, when did you ate something for the last time? Your fridge is empty, like...there’s an echo in there!”  
Johnny just stands there, a deer in the spotlights, and feels caught. Because it’s actually been a while since he’s had something to eat.

He just can’t, alright? He can’t. He’ll puke everything, he just knows it. And what if Robby comes back while he’s out, buying something to eat? What then, uh?  
But he can’t say that. Won’t say a thing. His throat closes just thinking about speaking those words.

So he just swallows and scratches at his hair, head tilted to the side, and doesn’t answer. Daniel looks at him, hands on his hips, and just...stares.  
“Johnny”.

His name in that tone, the same his mother used when he did something wrong. He feels like getting blackout drunk now.

“What?” He mutters, fingers still buried in his hair “You should go. The shower, I mean. You’re...you must be freezing”  
Daniel inhales deeply, but concedes.  
“Alright” He nods “But Johnny, can we talk them? Please?”  
“I...I don’t...” Johnny shakes his head, water trickling from his hair. At least it’s warm, now “Go get that fucking shower”.  
“Ok. Ok” Daniel nods with a smile “But then you’re coming with me. I know a place open 24/7, you have to eat something, man”.

He’s still smiling when he gets in the bathroom.  
And he stops smiling when he hears Johnny’s answer.

“I Can’t”

Daniel stops and swirls so quickly it gives him backlash.  
“What do you mean, you can’t?” He asks “You need to eat, John. What are you...”  
“What if Robby comes back and I’m not here?” He blurts out, swallowing. His mouth feels so, so dry and the white knuckled grip he has on the red towel around his hips has got nothing to do with his nakedness and everything with his fear and self hatred “What if he comes back and...I can’t leave. I just...”  
“Johnny. John!”  
Daniel’s hands are on his naked shoulders, now: they’re cold as ice, a shock against his finally warm skin.  
“John, it’s ok. We can order something, whatever. We don’t have to go out, ok?”  
Daniel crouches to find his eyes but Johnny is keeping them shut, so he gets up again, squeezes his shoulders, thinks “fuck it” and pulls him in a one armed hug.  
Johnny is stiff as a board, his back tense and knotted, every single muscle contracted, and the fact that he still has to say something about the fact that Daniel is holding him for the second time in a few hours, while he’s wearing nothing but a towel, speaks volumes.  
“It’s ok” He repeats “We’ll stay in. We can order something. It’s ok”.

Johnny nods, eyelashes brushing against Daniel’s wet sweater, then pushes back and looks up at the ceiling, finding sudden interest in a spiderweb that has been there since forever.

“Shower, LaRusso” He rasps, hands on his hips “I need to wear some pants for this conversation”.


	6. No me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This man lost everything in a day, he realizes.  
> His son. His best student, the kid he considers a friend or even a son. Carmen. And something must have happened with the dojo, too.

I'm not my father nor my cares  
I'm not my body  
There is no me  
But you will know me brother  
Know me brother  
No me - Kensington

When Daniel comes out from the shower, wearing Johnny’s clothes since his are still dripping wet, he finds his host sitting on the couch in front of the smashed TV. Johnny’s knee is bouncing, his left foot tapping a nervous rhythm on the floor, and it’s not hard to imagine that that’s how he must have spent most of his time since Robby vanished after the school fight.  
He has traded his jeans for a pair of grey sweatpants and a black AC/DC t-shirt and his hands are clasped so tightly between his knees, but Daniel can still see them shake.

This man lost everything in a day, he realizes.  
His son. His best student, the kid he considers a friend or even a son. Carmen. And something must have happened with the dojo, too.

He goes to sit beside him on the cushions, and the whole couch vibrates with the obsessive movement of Johnny’s leg. So he just puts one hand on his bouncing knee, trying to offer some kind of support.  
Johnny blinks and stops moving, bites his lip.  
“Sorry” He mutters “It happens. When I’m...”  
He doesn’t finish what he’s saying, gesturing vaguely towards his own head.

He’s lying, it happens every time he sits. He just can’t stop it.

“No, it’s ok” Daniel answers “Are you alright?”  
And BAM! Daniel LaRusso just won the prize for the dumbest question ever, ladies and gentlemen!  
He expects Johnny to tell him to fuck off, but the man simply chews the inside of his cheeks, hands trembling, and shakes his head.  
“I don’t think so”  
“Wanna talk about it?”  
Johnny snorts. There’s no joy in the sound.  
“Where should I start?” He asks with a smile made of teeth “My best friend died. Like, next to me. And I didn’t notice ‘cause I was fucking sleeping!”

And wait, what? Daniel’s head is reeling, trying to understand, but Johnny has merely started.

“Miguel could die. He could never walk again. And I can’t even visit him because Carmen doesn’t want me there. And she’s right, you know. Kreese stole my dojo. Put his name on the lease. My students are all with him, now”.  
“What? Johnny, what are you...”  
“And Robby is gone. He’s gone. He nearly killed Miguel and now he’s vanished and it’s my fault man. All of it is my fault. He was so angry because of me, because he’s my son. I must have ruined him, too. I hurt him, you know, Because I’m...I’m fucked up inside, man. Wrong. Evil. Selfish. So cliché, hm?”  
He laughs, bitter. It all comes out in a rush, as if he’s afraid that if he stops he’ll never be brave enough to say it.  
“No John, that’s not on you”  
“How do you know, hm?” Johnny turns towards Daniel and screams, fucking roars “How do you fucking know?”

Shit, his voice breaks. He lets his head loll forward, face hidden in his hands, and force himself to breathe.

“John, it was not your fault”   
Daniel tries to reason, but Johnny is beyond caring at this point. The other man takes him in, the shaking back and trembling hands, and snakes one arm around his shoulders.   
Johnny lets him.  
“Not your fault, you hear me?”  
“Fuck off” Is the muffled answer “You don’t know what you’re talking about”  
“Then tell me, hm?”  
Johnny’s head comes up and he looks at the ceiling again, hands running up and down his thighs, mouth set in a firm line.  
“Where do you think all that rage comes from, dumbass?” He seethes, eyes glazing over “All that hatred? From a fucked up family, that’s where it comes from. Trust me, I should know. And it’s on me”.  
Daniel nods, still looking at him.  
“And Miguel?”  
Johnny huffs out a laugh.  
“I taught him to have mercy. He spared Robby a broken bone, Robby threw him from a flight of stairs. On me”  
Another nod.  
“What happened with your friend?”

At that, Johnny actually has to stop, the image of Tommy’s dead body still etched in his eyes.

“Tommy died” He exhales, and hears LaRusso’s short intake of breath “Cancer. We..uhm. We thought we could give him one last good day, had the permission from the hospice and all that stuff. Went for a ride in the woods, got bikes and everything for camping”

He stops, breathes, hangs his head, hides his face in his hands again.

“In the morning he was dead. Right there, my best friend died next to me. And I was sleeping, and he died alone. We should have left him in the hospital, he might be still alive. This is on me, too”.  
He finishes, throwing a side glance to Daniel as if daring him to contradict what he said, rob him of his well earned guilt. 

Fuck, he can still smell the woods and the fire, hear Bobby’s screams when he discovered Tommy’s body, feel his best friend’s warmth dwindle under his fingers.

But LaRusso just nods, again.

“And Cobra Kai?”  
Daniel sees Johnny’s hands shake even more.  
“Kreese” He starts, and the name of his ex sensei sounds like a curse “He stole it while I was burying Tommy. Spoke with that friend of yours, owner of the place. Paid him more, fuck if I know. Place is his, now. My students, too. Blamed me for what happened to Miguel. All of them do. I let them down” He concludes, looking straight at Daniel “I let them down. You know what he does, right?”

And Daniel knows, of course he does. The man terrifies him even after decades. And he feels the familiar rage. How could Johnny let him come back, how could he trust him again?  
And then he understands.  
It’s a second chances thing. Johnny wants a second chance with his son, so he felt like he had to give one to Kreese.  
He doesn’t know if he should hug him or punch him in the face.  
But this scares him. A lot.   
It’s painful to hear, and dangerous: Cobra Kai was changing under Johnny’s guidance, but now that Kreese is back in the saddle...he shivers, just thinking about the brainwash those kids are about to undergo.  
He sighs and clasps his hands, turning his whole body towards Johnny, still slumped on the couch.

“Wanna hear what I think?”  
The huff Johnny lets out is so sarcastic he doesn’t even need words to convey how he feels about it.  
“Not really” He answers “But I fear you’re gonna tell me anyway” He bites out looking at the ruined, white coffee table, and Daniel can’t help a small laugh. This is just so Johnny, so him.  
“First of all, letting Kreese in was stupid” He starts, and Johnny literally pivots on the couch and snarls.  
“You think I don’t know?”  
Way to go, Daniel.  
He puts up his hands, palms towards Johnny in a placating gesture.  
“Man, let me finish, will you?” He says, trying to keep Johnny calm. Sure, the man used to all Ali a firecracker, but he’s just as explosive as she was.  
“I know he lied to you, I know you were trying to give him a second chance, I know you sent him packing” He doesn’t say I told you so, because he really doesn’t want to fight right now “I know you even trusted him, maybe. To an extent. But all I’m trying to say is that this is the only thing that’s on you”.  
Johnny regards him with a raised eyebrow: the light of the kitchen haloes his hair and Daniel can see why half of the female population of their school swooned when he walked the corridors.

The man is still handsome, even in this state. For fuck’s sake, that’s so not fair. 

“Have you heard just a syllable of what I just said?” Johnny grumbles “What do I have to do to let it sink in that thick skull of yours?”

Daniel sighs. Exasperating. Just as always.

“I heard you. And I still think that your fault resides in trusting Kreese again. Just that”  
“How can you...”  
“Look” Daniel interrupts him taking both of his wrists in his hands. Could be dangerous, Daniel could easily hurt him, break his bones with an easy to do leverage, but the man just finds his pulse points and strokes them lightly, that small circle of warmth connecting them.  
“Look” He repeats “Don’t you think I feel like shit for what Robby did? He was my student. How do you think I feel? Would you say that what he did was my fault? Because I taught him how to kick someone?”  
Johnny looks at him and his fingers twitch, but he doesn’t try to set himself free from Daniel’s grip. Good. Baby steps, then.  
“It’s not your fault he’s so angry, LaRusso”  
“Well, nope” Daniel muses, popping out the p “But it’s not yours entirely, neither. You think his mom didn’t do her fair share of damage? And me? I threw him out like that because he’s your son, Johnny. Any other boy I would have listened to, but him? I associated him with you, gave him no chances to explain himself even if in the end it was Sam that got drunk and oh my God”

He has to stop, take a breathe and close his eyes for a second because he wasn’t planning on blurting it all out.  
“So” He ears Johnny’s voice, small and wavering “It’s my fault anyway”  
“What? No!”  
Daniel’s eyes fly open.

“He paid for Sam’s mistake because he’s my son, you said it yourself”  
“No” Daniel’s hands squeeze Johnny’s wrists, just a bit “It’s my fault. And what he did was his choice. I’m not saying that what you did didn’t have an impact, but it isn’t all on you”.  
Johnny considers what he said, turns his head to the window and swallows.   
“And Miguel? You know what Carmen said? That he was sweet, before he met me. Had never gone and looked for a fight, before. I changed him. Ruined him. And then told him to be correct, and merciful and all that shit and look at him now”.

He has to stop because there is a lump in his throat, and he will start crying again if he doesn’t shut the fuck up. He can’t even hide his face because his stupid hands are still trapped in LaRusso’s grip.

“Miguel is a good kid, Johnny. He asked you to teach him karate so that he could defend himself from his bullies. Does it ring a bell?”  
Daniel asks with a raised eyebrow, and Johnny has to snort at that.  
“Right”  
Daniel smiles.  
“And you taught him well. You taught him honour and mercy. Taught him how to be strong without being cruel. I must admit I never thought you could do that, now after what Kreese drilled into your head for years”  
Johnny swallows, Miguel’s broken body swimming in front of his eyes.  
“He could never walk again”  
He whispers looking at Daniel, and there are tears in his eyes.   
Not Miguel, not the kid that gave him back purpose, friendship and the semblance of a family.  
“I know” Daniel says and fuck, when did he start thinking about him as Daniel and not just LaRusso anymore?  
He can’t look at him now, or he’ll break down again.

Thinking about it, he’s been breaking down for days.

Daniel’s hands climb on his arms and tug, and Johnny finds himself tucked against his old enemy’s chest again. It's weird but fuck, he needs it. He needs the comfort so much.  
“We should go and see him”  
“I can’t. Pay attention, man”  
There are fingers in his hair now, brushing them away from his face.  
“Yes, you can. I’m coming with you, I’ll talk to Carmen”  
“She’ll just kill you first, then”  
Johnny shakes his head, hair ticking Daniel’s chin. He wants to go, he just doesn’t have the right to do it.  
“Hey” Daniel whispers against his blonde head “Tommy wasn't you fault. You gave him a last good day. Great, even, I’m sure of it. You’ve always known how to party, goldilocks”.

It’s too much. It’s all too much.

“Why are you doing this?”  
He asks, desperately trying to control his breathing.  
“Because you need it, and I don’t hate you”  
Is the answer, and Johnny feels Daniel hug him for real, squeezing him like he’s trying to keep him together, and feels something break inside. Shit, Daniel is even rocking him back and forth.  
“Fuck you” He sobs “Fuck you”.

And then he breaks. He starts sobbing like it didn’t happen since he was a kid, before Kreese and Cobra Kai, and Daniel just keeps him close, long fingers splayed on his shaking back.

“John, it’s not your fault” He repeats against his hair “It’s not your fault, and we can still make things right”  
“How?” He rasps against his own shirt, the one Daniel is wearing “Hm? How can we make this right?”

He said “we”, non “I”. Daniel counts it as a small victory. Maybe he’s starting to feel not so alone anymore. Maybe.

“We could start with Miguel”  
Johnny shakes his head, wet eyelashes brushing against the fabric covering Daniel’s chest.  
“I can’t go there. Can’t hurt them again. And what if Robby...”  
“You can, you won’t hurt them” Daniel’s hand finds his chin and forces him to tilt his head up “As for Robby, I’ll ask Sam to stay here while we’re gone. It won’t take long, anyway. Ok?”  
“Carmen doesn’t want me there”  
“Johnny, you can’t let this fester” Daniel’s hands are still on his back, still keeping him together “It will hurt you. And Miguel needs you”.

He’s right. He doesn’t really care about being hurt, he deserves it, but Miguel doesn’t deserve to be let down again, abandoned.  
He promised.  
So he just nods.

And there is a small voice, inside his head, that tells him that LaRusso cares.  
About him.  
It helps.


	7. Machines

Crazy as it sounds, you won't feel as low as you feel right now  
At least that's what I've been told by everyone  
I whisper empty sounds in your ear and hope that you won't let go  
Take the pieces and build them skywards  
'Cause I've started falling apart I'm not savoring life  
I've forgotten how good it could be to feel alive

Biffy Clyro - Machines

Daniel calls Sam the following morning, after having watched over a sleeping Johnny for what was left of the night. Johnny told him to go home, that he didn’t have to stay, but one look at the man told Daniel that leaving him alone with his thoughts was nothing short of cruel.  
So he shook his head, ordered some pizza, forced Johnny to eat and watched as he fell asleep on the couch, the only light in the room coming from the muted TV and the street lights down the road. 

He was so different, when he slept. Calm and quiet, no stress lines on his face, no furrowed eyebrows, no pain around his eyes. He just lied there, thrown on the couch like a worn puppet, and didn’t move for the whole time, didn’t even breathe a bit differently, and Daniel knew what it meant: he was too tired to even dream, probably.   
But again, those bags under his blue eyes had given him away as soon as he had seen him.

Sam cannot drive with that arm of hers and those ribs, so Amanda chaperones her and helps her out of the car under Daniel’s watchful eyes and Johnny’s guilty gaze.

His student did this to her. It was Tory.  
And he doesn’t know what went down, what made the two girls hate each other so much, but seeing Samantha so bruised only fuels his guilt more. 

Amanda exchanges a few words with Daniel, Anthony sitting in the back of the car tinkering with something that keeps on emitting soft beeps and whatnot, and then leaves with a quick wave to Johnny.   
And Sam just stands there, with one hell of a shiner, and offers him a smile. 

It nearly kills him.

“How do you feel?”  
He finds himself asking with a voice that sounds wrong even to his own ears, arms around his chest and hands tucked under his armpits in an unconscious self hug, and Samantha’s smile dims a bit.  
“I’ve been better”  
He swallows, looking at his shoes. Oh, look, there’s a hole in the red fabric of his right sneaker.  
“I’m so sorry”  
Samantha looks at his father, confused, and then back at him.   
“Why?” She asks “It’s not like you told me to get drunk and kiss Miguel, right?”  
Daniel deflates, next to him, but all Johnny can do is blink at the defiant girl standing in front of his door.   
“Oh” He answers “Uh. No. Sure. Sorry”  
Daniel snorts, hands on his face, and nods.  
“You sure you feel good enough to take care of this?”  
He asks his daughter kissing her head, and Johnny feels a pang of regret and envy at the exchange. He could have had this with Robby, but he was too much of a coward.

And now is son is...he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. Just thinking about him makes his stomach clench, his breathing hitch.

“Yep” Samantha is saying with a smile “Besides, Moon is going to keep me company. If it’s alright with you, sensei Lawrence?”  
“Hm?” Johnny looks up and has to stop himself from correcting her, because he’s not a sensei anymore, is he? “Uh. No, it’s fine. Thanks for...it's abit of a mess, I mean...”  
He finishes lamely, nodding towards his place. But Samantha just smiles and walks past them.

She’s made of smiles, that one. 

“Let me know about Miguel” She asks, turning around with her head tilted “Please?”  
Johnny can only nod, a new lump in his throat.


	8. Maybe it's time

And this was self-inflicted  
Yeah I was on a mission  
To ruin everything in life  
But now I'm so damn ready  
Just take my hand and steady  
And we will make it through the night  
Maybe it's time to heal, maybe it's time to try  
Maybe it's time to deal with all the pieces in my life  
Maybe I'll sober up, maybe before I die  
Maybe I'll finally deal with all the wreckage in my life  
Sixx AM - Maybe it's time

He’s nervous.  
No, screw that: he’s scared shitless. It must show, because Daniel stops them right in front of the hospital doors and grasp his wrist.  
“You ok?” He asks “We don’t have to do this now, if you don’t feel like it”.

Weren’t you the one that pushed me out of my home this morning? Johnny would like to ask. But he doesn’t. He just looks at his wrist, then at the sliding doors, and shakes his head. He usually would shake Daniel’s hand off, but that was yesterday.

And yesterday was a million of years ago.

“No, it’s ok” He answers “I need to see him”  
“Alright, then”  
Johnny lets Daniel ask for directions, even if he knows where Miguel is already, just to have some more time to prepare himself and then they reach the elevator: the door opens swallowing them and spits them out at the right floor and Johnny can’t even take five steps in the right direction that Carmen has already spotted him, and is marching down the corridor like a fury.

She looks dishevelled and tired but oh, so beautiful and rightfully furious. And the hole in Johnny’s chest just enlarges, guilt eating up at him.

“What are you doing here?” She hisses, but he knows that were they not in a hospital she would be screaming his head off “I told you to stay away from us!”  
And he can’t answer, because she’s right. He’s got no right to be there, to hurt them all over again with his presence.   
“Carmen”  
He hears and fuck, he was so concentrated on her that he nearly forgot that Daniel was there, too.  
“Carmen”   
Daniel calls again, and Carmen’s eyes move from Johnny’s face to Daniel’s. She crosses her arms on her chest and lifts one eyebrow.  
“What”  
She spits out.  
“Please, just listen. Please”  
And now Carmen is looking back at him, eyes full of rage and fear. Her son could die. Could never walk again. The child she birthed, the child she helped to grow up and kept safe could vanish. Just like that.

And it’s on him.  
He can’t help it.  
It’s. On. Him.

“I...” He starts, but his voice dies in his throat. Carmen’s brow furrows even more.

He feels like puking. Like screaming. Like running away and never coming back.  
What he does, instead, is look down at his shoes, shuffle his feet and wet his lips.  
“I’m so sorry” He croaks “I just wanted to help him”  
Carmen shakes her head biting her lips, and looks to the side at the white wall.  
“Didn’t really work”  
She mutters.  
“I know. I know. He saved my life when he asked me for lessons, and now I don’t...”  
He can’t breathe. He just covers his face with his hands and shakes his head curling on himself. Daniel takes a step closer to him. It’s a hovering presence that should piss him off.

It doesn’t.

“Johnny, Miguel was a good kid before he met you”  
She accuses, and he doesn’t know what to say.  
“Miguel is a good kid, Carmen” Daniel intervenes “He is. He did the right thing”  
“Right, and he paid for it!”  
She screams, full of anger and grief, and Johnny takes a step back.

He needs to sit for a second. He needs silence, for a second. So he stumbles and falls on his ass like an idiot, eyes still screwed shut, fingers in his hair and one leg bent under him.  
Shit, it hurts.  
There’s a beat of silence, and then:

“Jonny!” Daniel’s hands are on his shoulders “Johnny? John, you ok?”

No, he’s not, but he nods because he has no right to feel like shit in front of Carmen when what she’s feeling must be so, so worse. When he opens his eyes, though, vision swimming with tears, Carmen looks more pensive than angry.

“He asked about you” She admits while Daniel helps him up, and the news are so big he nearly falls again.  
He just looks at her, blue eyes huge and red.  
“He’s awake?”  
He asks, tentative, and Carmen bites her lips and nods.  
“Yes”  
Johnny nods, scared to ask the next question.  
“How is he?” He rasps “Can I see him? Please?”  
And there, he’s crying again: hands on his face like a fucking child. Daniel puts one hand on his back, thumb pressing down on his spine.

He lets him.

Johnny hears Carmen sigh and nearly faints when she says that yes, he can see Miguel. Miguel wanted to see him, after all, so he swallows, thanks her and runs to the kid’s door.

Miguel is awake when he pokes his head in the room, not caring for his dishevelled appearance, red eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks. And he’s smiling.  
“Could hear you and mom scream from here. Well, mom's screams, actually” The kid rasps “Sorry about that”  
“No” Johnny shakes his head reaching the white, plastic chair closer to the bed “No kid. It’s ok. She’s right”

The kid is alive. He’s speaking.  
Oh, God.

“Nah” Miguel smiles again “She’s just...you know. Worried. She’ll be back to herself. At least I hope so, feels like having a guard dog” He ends with a small laugh.

Oh, God. He’s alive. And speaking, and smiling, and laughing and oh, God. Oh. God. Johnny can’t stop looking at him. Wants nothing more than hug him, but can’t, so he just looks at him like he’s the fucking sun.  
Miguel clears his throat.  
“Uhm, sensei” He smiles again, that funny glint back in his dark eyes “Guess what. They say I’ll be back on my feet. Hope you’ll keep on teaching me, hm?”  
Johnny stares, open mouthed, and decides that he will, if Carmen will let him. Fuck Kreese, he’ll find another place if he won’t be able to get his dojo back. 

He will get his kids back, though. Will save them all from that monster. And will make it safe for them, make it better. For Miguel. 

He will.

He moves the plastic chair closer to the bed and smiles, nodding.  
“If your mom doesn’t kill me”  
He manages to say.

And then he breaks down, huge sobs wrecking his frame as he lets his head fall on the kid’s bed, Miguel’s hand clasped in his much rougher one. He knows that Carmen and Daniel are watching them.  
He doesn't care.  
“Come on, sensei” He hears “Don’t wet the bed”  
And Johnny laughs between sobs.  
That was the worst joke ever.


End file.
